Legends of the Soaring Phoenix
Genre: Historical paranormal romance
Publisher: Buffalo Mountain Press
Date of Publication: June 30, 2013
ISBN: 978-1490592992 (print)
Number of pages: 326
Cover Artist: Kim Killion, Hot Damn Designs
Like a dark angel, Captain Kane O'Brien rescues Hannah Knight and her father from drowning after vampire pirates murder their crew and sink their ship. Struggling to control and hide her telekinetic powers, Hannah discovers the honorable and bold captain possesses his own secrets.
Every full moon, Kane turns into a vampire. Finding out Hannah not to be the cabin boy she resembles, but a beautiful, luscious woman, tempts all his appetites. Desperate to be free of his curse, Kane considers handing Hannah over to a demon. But after Hannah uses her power to save his ship from his immortal enemy, Kane can no longer deny his attraction and vows to protect Hannah with his life.
To find true love, they must combine their powers to defeat evil vampires, thwart Hannah's misogynist fiancé and escape a crafty demon.
Lightning crashed outside. Hannah trembled and her fingers clutched someone’s wet shirt, but ’twasn’t hers. Rain pelted against a window or was it against the walls. The beating of a heart matched the rain. Was the heartbeat hers or someone else’s? Her brain refused to unravel the situation.
“Easy lass.” She liked the roll of the male voice rich with an Irish timbre and snuggled deeper into a wet chest.
He laid her gently down on a soft mattress. “You foolish lass,” he whispered, his spicy breath washing over her, as he brushed her hair out of her face.
The captain? Kane, yes that’s right. He had picked her up. His face came in clearer. His wet hair dripped down onto his soaked shirt. His damp eyelashes outlined his emerald eyes, the same eyes studying her with concern. Why was he concerned? She wanted to say something, but couldn’t form the words and a moan escaped her.
“Blimey,” he uttered.
“Have I done something wrong?”
His handsome face turned grim. She blinked, struggled to rouse herself, and shook her head, but the dull ache refused to allow her to focus on anything but Kane’s stormy eyes.
His soft fingers, brushing hair away from her eyes, sent shivers down her. “What were you doing out there? One angry wave could have carried you out to sea where only Poseidon himself could find you.”
Kane's words were more like an endearment than a scolding. Pain gripped her and her jumbled thoughts and blurry vision played havoc with her senses.
’Twas a sin, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his tempting lines. His mouth was angular, firm. What would it feel like to kiss him? She had never been kissed. How strange if a pirate was the first man to kiss her. Why was she thinking about kissing?
Inappropriate. Completely inappropriate.
“You’re wet,” he murmured. He wrapped his arm, around her, pulling her to a sitting position, steadying her on the bed. She put her hand on her forehead, her other hand resting against his chest. His white shirt was so creamy against his tanned skin that she leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and licked him.
He sucked in his breath. “What are you doing lass?” His accent heavy and strained.
“I wanted to see if you tasted like cream.”
“Jaaysus, do I?”
“No, you taste like wet pirate.”
He pushed her back. Nimble fingers undid her shirt. “What are you doing?”
“You’re shivering,” he murmured. “We have to get you in dry clothing.” He gently slipped her arms out of the sleeves.
Damp air gripped her and her teeth chattered. Cold sweat broke out around her. How could she be cold when sweat ran down her body as if she were out on deck in the hot sun?
She opened her eyes or at least one did. Her right eye throbbed and remained shut. Why couldn’t she open it? She grabbed his hand. “No.” He shook off her limp hand.
“Hmmm, you’re wet, too.”
The mattress was surprisingly soft against her back and he was so handsome. Her naughty arms longed to reach up around his neck and pull him down on top of her where she could indulge in exploring his sinful lips. A shocked giggle escaped her mouth.
He scowled. “Are you laughing at me?”
She shook her head, suppressing a grin. “Not at all.”
His tanned, leaned fingers went to the buttons at her untied the laces of his tunic she wore.
She froze. “What are you doing?”
“Don't worry, lassie, you're treasures are safe from me.”
Her mind refused to answer. Kane jerked off her boots and undid her breeches. Was he going to rape her?
She tried to scream but her words caught in her throat. Mother of God, she was naked.
She swayed on the bed and tried to summon her anger or her power, but all she could feel was the splitting pain in her head. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I can’t think. Pain keeps clouding my thoughts.”
Kane ran gentle exploring fingers through her hair and she sighed.
His soft touch dulled the pain and she leaned into his hand. “That feels so good.”
His finger ran over the back of her skull and a sharp pain stabbed her head. She winced. “Ow.”
“You’ve got a nasty bump on the back of your head, lass.” He parted her hair, sending chills through her. “’Tis not bleeding. A good sign, but your thunderin’ head won’t thank you in the morning.”
“I like your fingers playing with my hair.”
His fingers slid across her head and glided through her damp strands. “You do?”
“Your hands are gentle. Soft.”
She clasped his hand, caressing it with her thumb. The roughness spoke of his days in the sun, but he wasn’t always rough. She brought his hand to her cheek, nestling against him. “Maybe not soft, but you’re gentle with them. I like the feel of your hands on my skin.”
“Lassie,” he said. “You’re testing my limits.”